


Crimson Sun

by Tulkika (Zairafuana)



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Medic, Canon names except Pyro, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Loving Team, M/M, Medic's kinda fucked up mentally, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, RED really loves their medic, Scout's an awkward adult, Sex starts in Chapter 2, Ships Added As They Appear - Freeform, Team Bonding, Team Feels, They're a bunch of fucking dumbasses in love, allusions to WW2, medic centric, no abuse between the team, no rape only mentioned dub con, post-comic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:33:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29332368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zairafuana/pseuds/Tulkika
Summary: RED and BLU are back at their bases, re-hired and settling back into the mercenary life.Because of this, the Mercs are back working at their old jobs. RED team is happy to be back together and most of all they're happy to have their Medic back. They've come to realize just how much he means to them. The crew work up a plot to show him just how important he is to them. It does not go fully to plan when their efforts trigger some trauma laying hidden in Medic's ever fractured mind.In the end, it does little to change their plans. They're determined to show him just how special he is to them while also trying to prove to him that they can be there for him when he's not feeling like himself. It was supposed to an innocent plot to get their good doctor laid. None of them had planned for the emotional ride that came with falling for the man.
Relationships: Eventual Team/Medic, Medic/Scout (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Crimson Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, I apologize. I am very rusty with both writing (it really shows) and TF2 (seriously I only started playing again after like 4 years).  
> Despite this, I hope that this story's enjoyable. I'll be honest. This started as a pathetic excuse to get the entire crew to fuck medic and then it grew into FEELs.  
> So yeah...
> 
> The way I see it, this fic should have roughly 10 chapters.
> 
> A head's up, Medic will be a little out of character but there's story-specific reasons for it.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy. Feel free to comment. Would mean a lot.

“Doc, c’mon, man!” Scout called as he poked his head in the doors to Medic’s office. Hidden behind the door, his leg bounced as he waited. Heat simmered on his cheeks as he watched the older merc sitting at the desk. His heart thrummed as he desperately tried to ignore the rest of the office and a flood of memories of having to be put back together for one reason or the other in this room rushed back to him. He couldn’t focus on that now. This wasn’t about him or the time he’d been stupid enough to fall off a balcony in the base while playing with Pyro. No, tonight was about the team’s resident doctor.

“Medic, we’re gonna be late-er.” Scout took a breath and pushed the door aside. He stepped through. Light on his toes, he missed being hit by the heavy door as it swung back closed. The fingers of his right hand began to fidget with the grip tape of his left as he strode over to the Medic. About a foot from the man, he noticed and quickly pulled his hands away from each other. “Engie wants us fer the meetin’. He said seven and it’s almost frickin’ eight!”

He grimaced. He hadn’t meant for his voice to pitch that loudly. He knew Medic didn’t like it when he did that. Something about it making the birds upset. Scout chanced a look about for the murderous little monsters. A breath escaped him and a bit of tension left his shoulders as he saw the army of doves sleeping up in the rafters. They’d be cute if he hadn’t known they could peck his eyes out at a moment’s notice.

A mumble from Medic drew his attention away from the winged nightmares.

“What was that, Doc?” He asked softly. His voice came out lower. It was a struggle to keep that volume but figured it’d be appreciated. When he didn’t get a reply, he reached out and rested his hand on the doctor’s shoulder to grab his attention. A violent flinch passed through the doctor as his broad shoulders curled forward away from the touch. Scout’s heart leapt in his throat. He yanked his hand back as quickly as possible and clutched it to his chest, his dog tags jingling as they were disturbed by the movement. He stared wide-eyed at the other man.

“D-doc? Y-you okay?”

“Hmm?” Following the simple hum, Medic straightened up. His shoulders slid back to their neutral position as his posture settled primly. He sat still a moment before turning his head to look up at the runner beside him. “Oh, Scout. I didn’t hear you come in. I vas just finishing up some papervork. Vhat do you need?”

Scout, still clutching his hand to his chest, blinked slowly at the other man. A concerned glint settled into his eyes. He’d been calling the doctor for at least a good five minutes. None of that had been heard at all? This might be a bigger issue than they had all guessed. “Uh, yeah! Engie, called a meetin’ in the dinin’ hall. W’re late, man.”

What minuscule smile the doctor had melted away. A deep queasiness settled into Scout’s stomach as he watched Medic nod slowly and close the file as he stood. “Uh, you okay, Doc?”

“Of course, I am.” Medic frowned and looked down at Scout’s chest, seeing the hand being held there. Reaching out, he gently took hold of it. “Are you hurt, hmm?”

“Wha’? Oh! Nah.” Scout slapped a bright grin onto his face. He let Medic take his hand and tried not to think about how the doctor had done the flinching earlier instead of the other way around. Scout may be terrified of the older man but that didn’t mean he didn’t like him. Once you got past the experiments and bloodlust, the doctor was a great guy who could be surprisingly sweet. And since working with the madman, Scout couldn’t remember ever seeing him flinch at anything. Ever.

“You sure?”

“Oh! Yea, yeah, Doc. I just smacked inta ya door earlier and was just a bit sore. ‘m good!”

“Vell, okay zhen. Let us go.” Medic blinked a few times and gently released Scout’s hand. He turned to grab his work coat off the back of his chair but was stopped by Scout’s hand on his arm. He gave the young man a questioning look. The brighter expression now settling on Scout's features seemed more natural but oddly strained. Feeling ill, perhaps?

“Dinin’ hall’s nice ‘n’ toasty. Ya don’t need the coat.” Scout smiled and took the Medic by the wrist, leading him gently. His hand wanted to automatically clutch down like how he normally held his bat. That previous nausea was starting to boil. His palms felt scorching hot against Medic’s cool skin. He found himself wondering if the sweat welling up from his palms was making the tape sticky and gross against Medic's skin. A blush seemed to blossom in his cheeks when the older man didn’t resist and instead followed him.

Above them, the flock of doves cooed curiously. They shuffled uneasily as they watched their master be pulled towards the entrance of the clinic. Medic looked up to them, eyes kind. He tapped two fingers against his lips and blew them a silent kiss. The birds settled at the gesture. They snuggled in close to each other as they awaited his return. Only Archimedes kept his head held high to watch until his master was truly out of sight.

Mind soothed by the vision of his birds, Medic relaxed. He turned his attention back to Scout. He breathed slowly as he watched the younger man curiously. Scout seemed so eager to pull him along the familiar halls of the maze of concrete and steel that had become their home. What was so important that they could possibly be late? His gaze drifted down to the hand secured around his wrist. It had yet to be removed. A confounding position to be in really. None of his team ever touched him for longer than strictly needed. The sensation of skin against skin made his insides squirm. His skin tingled pleasantly. He wasn’t entirely opposed but was left questioning the motive. Prolonged physical contact between Scout and other men was unheard of.

“Hey, guys! I got the doc!” Scout called out once they set foot into the dining hall. Medic startled at the sudden volume. His pulse suddenly became very noticeable in his veins. He knew the others were greeting Scout but he couldn't hear their words. His pulse was rushing in his ears. His legs locked up and his boots dug into the floor, refusing to move forward. His eyes narrowed suspiciously at the younger man whose back was still turned to him. What trap had Scout dragged him into? If it was something as trivial as washing dishes, he was going to steal all their organs while they slept.

A scent suddenly filled his senses. The aroma was warm and familiar. It tasted like a distant memory on his tongue as his mind struggled to put an image to the smell and a name to the memory. His throat tightened as a lump felt as if it were beginning to swell at the back of his throat. A creeping feeling of homesickness burrowed into his belly, drawing the unfamiliar sting of tears to his eyes. The sensation took the fight from his knees as he was being pulled forward once more. Each step closer to the dining table dipped him further into a familiar comfort that felt like cotton against his brain.

The dining hall was dark save for a low light in the kitchen and lit candelabras along the top of the dinner table. A strange choice. Had the power gone down in this section of the base again? No, that didn't make sense. The muscles in his back tightened as he looked about but didn’t see the other RED members. Alarms blared in his head and he pulled back his arm, trying to escape Scout’s grasp but the younger man refused to release him. The runner stopped pulling and turned to look at him. That smile was back; bright and open as always but lacking the normal cocky flare.

“‘bout time you two showed up.” Engie greeted them as he walked out of the kitchen. He was drying his hands on a kitchen towel as he stepped up to them. He still wore his helmet but his goggles were absent. His eyes were kind as they fixed on Medic. He gave a nod to the other man as he hooked the towel on his belt. “We were jus’ reheatin’ dinner. Please, have a seat.”

The other mercs filed out of the kitchen with the items to set the table. The sight soothed the anxiety worming under Medic’s skin. He drew in a shaky breath and let Scout lead him to the soft chair at the head of the table. He blinked. Had that particular chair always been there? He often ate late and he frankly couldn’t be bothered with what the team had been given to sit on. Still, it seemed oddly plush for a dining chair.

He moved to reach for the chair but froze. Demo appeared from the other side of the room and pulled the chair back. The man gave him a grin while making a sweeping hand gesture for Medic to take a seat. Stunned, Medic stared at him. His features pinched upwards, confounded by the Scot’s action.

“Here, ‘ave ye’self a seat, Doc.” Demo urged gently. His voice lacked the slurred edge of his usual drunken stupor. Another mystery but Medic filed it away for later. Nodding his thanks, he stepped in front of the chair. He gasped slightly as it was pushed in securely under him before he had the chance to do it himself.

“Thank you, Demo.” Medic said softly to the other man. He enunciated each sound carefully, doing his best to smother his accent. The effort left his tongue feeling fat and awkward. He hated the sensation. His jaw tightened, not wanting to speak anymore. The rapid blink and slight frown at his efforts from the Demoman made Medic’s shoulders droop slightly. How odd. That had not been the response he’d been looking for. Perhaps his pronunciation was not as clear as he had hoped for. With his head turned, he missed the flash of concern passed between Scout and Engineer.

“Here ya go, Doc. Drink up, Mate.” Sniper shattered the awkward moment by stepping over to the table. He set a large mug of beer down slightly to the side of Medic’s place setting. The lanky man straightened up and grinned at the team’s doctor while tipping his hat. He crossed his arms and gave him a wink. “It’s tha’ fancy German beer you’re so fond’a. Spy had it shipped in. Enjoy.”

Medic opened his mouth to respond but the words were stolen from him as Heavy stepped up to the other side of him. The large man offered him his usual adoring smile that made Medic's heart sing such as it had for the past several years. He had missed his friend's smile during their separation. Heavy lowered a bowl down in from of the German. With the dish settled, the rich aroma smacked Medic in the memories once more. He blinked slowly a few times to clear his mind as he pulled his eyes away from Heavy’s gentle features. His gaze shifted down to his bowl, his heart skipped several beats at what he saw.

“Turns out there’s a little German restaurant in town.” Engineer started to explain. “We ordered this as a surprise for ya but I can’t begin to try pronounc-! Doc, you okay?!”

Medic was frozen. He could hear the cries of concern from his companions but couldn't respond. He was gazing deeply into the beef and potato stew nestled in his bowl. The aroma filling his mind with memories of his homeland. It was only when his friend’s voice took a higher pitch that he was pulled from the mesmerization. He looked up slowly as he felt the Engineer’s hand grip his shoulder in concern. Only then did Medic notice the moisture against his own face. He raised a shaky hand to his cheeks before drawing back, blinking sluggishly before staring at the wetness on his fingertips.

‘I can cry?’

Medic blinked a few more times before drawing his eyes away from his moist fingers. He blinked back the rest of the tears as he let his gaze sweep over his team. They were all crowded close, eyes wide with concern as they watched him. A muffled whimpering sound came from Pyro as they pressed forward, gently pressing a basket-weave bowl towards Medic. There was something inside, covered with a kitchen towel to keep warm. Medic’s hand trembled for reasons he didn’t understand as he reached for the basket. It was freely released into his grip and he drew it close, easing back the towel. His heart leaped and his vision swam once more. Sitting in the basket were traditional German rolls, obviously freshly baked by the team’s resident firebug.

“Zhank you, Liebl-!” He quickly cleared his throat and smiled tiredly. He missed the suspicious look that passed between Engineer and Heavy as they caught him changing his manner of speaking once more. “Thank you, Pyro.” He clutched the bowl to his chest and reached out, patting Pyro’s arm. The fire expert made a sweet sound that was almost like chirring as they stepped away. Seeing them move to the side made Medic’s heart ache for a moment. He wanted them to come sit beside him. To tell him how they had baked the rolls so expert. The confounding sensation left him even more lost about the progression of the evening.

‘Why put out this effort?’ He took a roll out of the basket and placed it on the plate sitting under his bowl. He tried to ignore how the eight other mercs were just staring at him. It was unnerving since most tended to be rather skittish around him most days. He had noticed that this had been slowly changing since they had all come back to work for RED once more. They all seemed clingier than they used to be. Something about dying without the safety net of the respawn system perhaps. The war starting once more due to RED and BLU gaining new ownership was an excellent excuse for a deeper study of his team.

“If I may.” He started slowly as he grabbed the mug of beer. “Vhy have you all done zhis?” He took a slow, testing sip of the drink. His eyes drifted closed as the familiar, comforting flavor hit his tongue. He let the delicious beverage fill his mouth and drown his taste buds. It mixed with the scent of the stew and easily fooled his exhausted mind into thinking he was home instead of some American hellhole.

“Well.” Engineer started. “We wanted to show our appreciation for ya, Doc. Wanted to make this night extra special.”

“Yeah.” Scout piped up. He pressed closer to Medic’s chair and gently touched his arm, making enough noise not to spook the man this time. “Wanted ta have somethin’ ta give ya plenty of energy before we give you’a fun time t’night!”

Sweetness replaced the usual cockiness in Scout’s voice. But still, the words sent up eight very red flags in Medic’s mind. His eyes snapped open as he immediately spit out the beer before he could swallow. He violently threw the mug across the long table, making a few of his teammate yelp in surprise. They all stared as beer from the mostly full mug splatted over the warn table cloth and extinguished a few candles. Pyro made a distressed sound at the flames' death. Medic was standing in a second, kicking his chair back from under him. His outburst left the others gapping as he backed away from them. They were frozen, unable to either move away or move towards him.

“Zo, you mongrels zhink you can lure me in vith tastes of mein home and I vill just let you drug and rape me?!” He spit the words, voice full of venom as he kept backing up. His eyes were wide and frantic, looking at them all yet unable to see the horrified looks on their faces. He was so locked onto them, he didn’t even notice Heavy was missing until he backed into the man’s chest. A solid wall of muscle that was normally his sanctuary suddenly felt like the wall of a prison. Massive arms came down around him, trapping him and rendering him harmless. Each man there knew that a medic who felt cornered became no more than a feral animal fighting for survival. Heavy couldn’t let their medic hurt the others.

Medic yelled as he struggled in the vice-like bonds of the other man’s arms. He heart hammer as it became harder to breathe with each second he was held. He squirmed fruitlessly. Kicking his boots back against the Russian’s legs as Medic was lifted off the ground to be held better. A bitter growl erupted from his throat as he looked back at Heavy, blue eyes icy with hatred. “Misha, how could you do zhis to me?!”

Heavy’s eyebrows drew up, his brow furrowed. His kind eyes shimmered with tears. He wanted to curl himself protectively around his friend but feared the man's panicked reaction. He shifted his grip on Medic, using just one arm to secure the doctor helplessly against him. He lifted his freed hand up. His large fingers started to soothingly stroke the feathery streaks of silver at his friend’s left temple. How many headaches had he soothed with this very technique over the years? “No, Doktor, is not what you think.”

Medic opened his mouth to protest, trying futilely to pull away from Heavy’s touch. But before he could speak, Engineer cut him off. He stepped forward, offering a hand out placatingly towards Medic.

“Heavy’s right. There’s a misunderstandin’, Doc.” He stopped a few feet from Medic, not wanting to spook him worse than he already was. God above, this was not the reaction of them had expected. Maybe a little bit of annoyed swearing but not this. He took off his helmet to be fully transparent to the other man. “We’d never hurt ya like that. The night’s plan was just badly expressed.”

“M-my bad.” Scout offered up. He ran his fingers through his hair, looking at Medic apologetically. He offered a small smile but it died quickly. It hurt to look at Medic. Guilt weighed on his heart like an anchor and he couldn't even try to meet the man's eyes.

Engineer nodded at him and turned back to Medic. He drew in a steady breath. He needed to approach this delicately. He slowly reached out a hand to touch his friend’s. “The food ain’t drugged, Doc. We would ne’er do that to you. We really wanted you ta have something special. A little something to thank you for saving our sorry asses all these years.”

He brushed his flesh fingertips to Medic’s. He paused when Medic’s hand flinched away. The reaction felt Engineer feel like a Spy had just shoved a blade through his spine to his heart. Then, after a strained moment. The stress on his face slowly eased into a weak smile as after a few moments he felt Medic return the touch. He took his friend’s hand in his, soothingly rubbing his thumb over Medic’s knuckles. “Doc…” He took a breath. “Ludwig. What Scout was trying to say isn’t what you think.”

Medic was still eyeing him suspiciously. Teeth were bared and his posture strained. Though, the doctor’s breathing did slowly relax as his gaze flicked from each man's face to the other. He gulped a few breaths to try and regulate his oxygen intake but that soon started to settle. Feeling the shift in his demeanor, Engineer squeezed his hand comfortingly.

“We don’t wanna take anythin’ from you.” Heat started to settle on Engineer’s cheeks. Socializing and explaining his point usually came easy to him. But this was an entirely different situation. “We want to give you something. Us.”

“I…” Medic started slowly, eyes frantically flicking to each of his teammates again. It felt as if the world was passing sluggishly. He took in their expressions but they were suddenly so hard to decipher. “I don’t understand.”

Engineer stumbled over what he tried to say next so Sniper stepped forward. He patted Engineer on the shoulder before taking off his hat to let his face be seen properly despite his sunglasses still being in place. “You’ve been moighty tired and stressed lately, Doc. We all see it.” He grinned, lifting up his glasses and giving Medic a wink. “Best way to clear that up for men in our situation is a little fun between the sheets. You’re always takin’ care of all of us. So, we thought we’d all take turns takin’ care’a you.”

Sniper's calm demeanor made the words seep in easier. Understanding slowly down on Medic. The context of everything now cleared up, the course of the conversation was suddenly more awkward for the doctor. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had tender intimacy with another person. 

“So.” Sniper took Medic’s other hand as Heavy finally released the doctor. “What do you say, Mate? You up to letting us take care of you for a change?”

Medic swallowed, his throat a bit dry. Subtly, he shifted his weight from one hip to the other as he tried to process the words being spoken to him. His spine was stiff, taut, as he stood there. He let his eyes sweep over the room. Sometimes not even settling on a person. He met the eyes of each of the men there with the expected exception of Soldier. Their eyes were all filled with a soft kindness, a strange transparency to their hearts. A sight not normally seen on a group of mercenaries. Even Spy’s normally closed off expression was more relaxed. Each man stood there holding out a gift he was deeply unfamiliar with; a true show of intimacy.

Medic gritted his teeth. Jaw muscles tightened. He looked over each of his teammates again. Still, the crawling sensation under his flesh and the need to bolt from the room didn’t ease. He drew a slow breath in through his nose before turning to look back at Heavy. He met the larger man’s eyes; searching.

“It is safe, Doktor.” Heavy urged gently. He reached down, stroking the soft hair at Medic’s temples once more. Medic’s eyes fluttered. He pressed his head more against his friend’s hand. Heavy rewarded his surrender by moving those fingers to carefully massage at the doctor’s scalp. The others watched helplessly. None of them dared move. Each one stayed in Medic’s line of sight as his eyes slowly opened.

“I suppose it has been a vhile.” Medic finally murmured. His breath shook as it left him. The fight seeped from his muscles, leaving him collapsing back against Heavy. His eyes fluttered every so often as Heavy continued his soothing touches. Every other merc smiled at his answer. Their taut muscles relaxed and they began to talk amongst themselves. Engineer stepped closer to Medic and put his helmet back on.

“C’mon then, son, How about you come back to the table and get somethin’ good to eat.” He motioned towards Medic’s neglected meal. Steam still rose from the hearty stew as it waited to be eaten.

“Ja, zhat vould be nice.” Medic murmured as his shoulders drooped, accent thickening from his emotional toll. His exhaustion intensified as the adrenaline seeped from his body. His knees wobbled slightly and his stomach made its emptiness known. A deep grimace pulled at Medic’s lips. When had been the last time he had eaten?

“Great! I’ll go fetch ya another beer then.”

A startled yelp sounded as the doctor was suddenly swept off his feet. Engineer chuckled as he watched Heavy carry Medic back to the table. He shook his head, heading for the kitchen. He'd missed seeing those two dote on each other. He grabbed Scout and Demo along the way to help finish serving dinner for everyone. The others stayed in the dining hall, attempts to get Medic to speak with them could be heard.

But as the trio headed to the kitchen, Scout had a deep frown on his face. He fidgeted with a piece of loose grip tape as he trudged after Engie. His shoes scuffed against the floor as he dragged his feet. It wasn’t until they were securely in the kitchen did he finally speak up, disrupting the other two’s conversation. “Sooo… none of us really gonna talk about how the Doc just flipped the frick out?!” He hissed. His voice pitched slightly, almost reaching levels that could be heard outside the kitchen. Engie and Demo shared a look before Demo sighed.

“Aye, Laddie, we ain’t.” Demo said firmly. He crouched down, opening the crate beside the door. Touch careful, he pulled a bottle out and passed it to Engie.

“What?! Seriously?!”

“Yes, seriously.” Engie set the bottle down on the counter a tad bit too firmly. Scout straightened up a bit, startled by the slight bang. Engie simply shook his head. His shoulders hunched a bit. He let the silence sit between them a moment before he reached for the bottle opener. He shifted his body so that it blocked how his flesh hand shook. The bottle opener bumped the lid a few times until he was able to settle enough to secure it. “Son, Medic’s a lot older than mosta the fellas around here. He’s seen a lot of bad that the world has’ta offer. Pr’bly the reason he’s the way he is, I reckon.”

Scout’s eyes looked down at the floor. He worried his lip between his teeth as he thought over the older man’s words. He swallowed thickly. His hands fisted at his sides, words barely a whisper. “But this ain’t like our Doc. Doc ain’t scared a nothin’. Now, he ain’t the same anymore. Won’t even speak German anymore.”

“Aye.” Demo nodded as he handed a mug to Engie. “I noticed that too. He’s said like maybe three words.”

“That is mighty unusual.” Engineer poured the drink perfectly. There was a tad left in the bottle once he was done. He handed it to Demo before turning to leave, smiling as the explosives expert drank it down. “All that matters is that we have him back and we best make sure we don’t lose him again. Everything else will work itself out.”

~*~z~*~

By the time that dinner was nearing its end, there was a warm fuzziness to Medic’s mind that had nothing to do with the alcohol he’d consumed. The tastes of his home sat comfortingly on his tongue. His ears hummed with the happy voices of his team. A soft heat burned at his cheeks as each man at the table made a distinct effort to include him in the conversation. Everything felt so good. It was almost as if they had never been fired then re-hired. It was just life as RED.

A flash of red and tinkling of metal to his side drew his attention. He watched Scout sit down in the seat beside him. He blinked at the younger man, the two of them just awkwardly staring at each other for a few seconds. Despite that, he noticed how Scout's eyes never raised high enough to meet his. Scout’s fingers tapped on the table and he dropped his gaze to the tabletop.

“H-hey, Doc.”

“Hello.”

“Uhm.” Scout looked up to the older man before his gaze flicked back to the table. His finger stopped tapping only to begin to draw patterns in the tablecloth with his fingertip. “Can I… Can I try your soup?” He pointed awkwardly at the Medic’s unfinished meal. It smelled really good but not really like anything Scout had ever eaten before.

Medic blinked, surprised by the request. The young American was not usually so open to trying something new. Still, he picked up the bowl and set it in front of the runner. “It is stew, Scout. Zhere is a difference.”

“O-oh…! Right.” Scout dipped his head before smiling weakly at Medic. “Sorry. Really only ever had soup grownin’ up. Ya know. Not stew.”

“Understandable.” Medic sipped at his beer. He watched Scout pick up the spoon and try a small mouthful of the cooling stew. An unfamiliar flutter reverberated in his chest as he spotted a look of enjoyment on the younger man’s face. “Is it enjoyable?”

“Y-yeah!” Scout’s voice grew stronger. He straightened up, expression bright as he took another mouthful. “What’s this called, Doc?”

“Gaisburger Marsch.” Medic replied quietly. He grabbed a roll out of the basket and tore off a small piece. He dipped into the stew’s broth, letting the hearty bread absorb the flavors. He then offered it towards Scout’s lips. “It is from Stuttgart, vhere I vas born.”

A rosy blush dusted over Scout’s cheeks and across his nose. He dipped his head forward, taking the offered morsel into his mouth. His pulse slammed hard in his ears and his brain stalled as Medic’s fingers brushed over his bottom lip while pulling away. It took a solid ten seconds before he was able to chew again, unable to pull his gaze away from Medic’s beautiful blue eyes. They were mesmerizing, dark with bliss and alcohol,

“How is it?”

“Beautiful…” The word slipped out before Scout could even fully process what he was saying. His blush got worse as realization set in. He quickly cleared his throat, pulling his eyes away from the doctor. “Ahem! Uhm, I-I mean… It’s delicious. I really like it, Doc.”

“I’m glad.” Medic took his glasses off. He set them on the table before rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes. “Now, Scout. Is zhere somezhing you needed?”

“Huh?” Scout paused, spoon poised to deposit more stew into his mouth. He looked at Medic dumbly before plopping the spoon in. “Wha’ do ya mean?” He realized too late what he had done and pushed the food into his cheek as he spoke. His eyebrows pinched apologetically to the other man before slowly chewing the food.

“Zhis.” Medic motioned to the space between them. “You und I do not usually converse such as zhis.”

“O-oh.” Scout swallowed down the mouthful. It got stuck a bit and slowly trudged its way down his esophagus as he straightened up. “Uhm.”

He scrubbed his fingers through his shortly cropped hair. He looked to the side for a moment before finally awkwardly meeting Medic’s eyes again. “Jus’ thought I’d check in. Was thinkin’ you ‘n’ I could cap first. I-if ya know what I mean.”

Scout’s chest ached from how hard his heart was slamming in his ribcage. Every word he said felt helplessly stupid in his own ears. Why couldn’t he have just said ‘Doc, I’m gonna do ya first’ instead of stumbling over his own tongue like an idiot?! God, he was so frickin’ stupid!

“Oh! Hmm… I see.” Medic cleared his throat and took another sip of his beer. He let the flavors sit on his tongue a moment before he offered the mug to Scout. “Zhat sounds alright zhen. Shall ve?”

“Oh. Yea, yeah. Sure. Let’s go.” Scout’s heart thrummed. He grinned brightly, happily taking the mug. He took a sip. It was a bit of a shock that the drink was room temperature but the flavor more than made up for it. He gulped it down, feeling revitalized by Medic’s response. He set the mug down and quickly stood, taking Medic’s hand. “Don’ worry, Doc. I’ll take good care’a ya!”

Medic chuckled tiredly and shook his head. He gave a small smile, letting Scout pull him to his feet. “I’m sure you vill, Scout.”

~*~Chapter end~*~


End file.
